


Tragic Happenings

by vanillabean786



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: A little, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Gen, M/M, Out of Character, Post-Canon, roughly 20 years in the future, sort of, the end is rushed a little im sorry, this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillabean786/pseuds/vanillabean786
Summary: Ralph and Jack really don't want to talk to each other. Ever.





	

Ralph placed his grocery items on the counter carefully, making sure the eggs were put down gently, so that they didn’t crack. He was supposed to be hurrying, as his parents had invited him over for dinner, and his father had always lectured him on the importance of punctuality. He just wasn’t in the mood to spend Saturday evening with his parents, and quite frankly he wasn’t sure they wanted to either.

The monthly dinners had become routine ever since Ralph’s breakdown about fifteen years back, which resulted in a year of therapy, and his parents becoming much more concerned about his well-being. They knew of what had transpired on the island, but hadn’t judged exactly how it affected Ralph very accurately. A few years back, Ralph had moved on enough to be able to wonder if it was just an awful dream. Sometimes he felt bad about doing this, but honestly, if Simon or Piggy had survived instead of him, would they have really  not done the same?

* * *

 

Jack set the milk on the counter with great difficulty, as if he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before and had no energy left in him after a full day of work.

As a matter of fact, this was completely true.

Jack hadn't been able to sleep properly for the past twenty years. Some days were better than others, but today was not one of those days.

He felt restless in the night, sort of like he had better things to do while everyone else slept. Taking a walk tended to calm him down, but he didn't really want to go to sleep. Being tired in the morning was a better alternative to the dreams, which were full of odd flashes of things that were familiar, but that he didn't quite seem to remember clearly in the morning. He knew they had something to do with that island, from what feels like a lifetime ago.

He suspected that most of what occurred had been his fault, but it was so easy to blame all of them, and the fact that they were kids, and so many other things that he couldn’t have stopped himself. The whole thing was a mess, and was there anything the British were better at than ignoring their messes?

Jack smiled to himself, thoughts of the island forgotten, if just for a moment.

* * *

 

Ralph looked at the mess before him in dismay, as a man with reddish hair stuttered apologies at him with mild horror.

“I’m sorry, it was an accident, I wasn’t looking at what I was doing and I just…sorry, I’ll buy you a new carton, perhaps?”

Ralph finally looked up from the broken egg-shells that littered the floor to look at the redhead’s face. Just as he did, he began to wish that he hadn’t.

“J-jack?”

The man bore a startling resemblance to memories of the boy that he had clashed with on the island. Could he be the same person? Maybe Ralph was just imagining things. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Maybe-but-probably-not-Jack squinted at him. He seemed confused, his face scrunched up a little and his bright blue eyes tilted up.

“Ralph?” He was tentative, as if he thought Ralph might attack him any second now. He probably did, even though they both knew that Ralph wasn’t the one who briefly went savage.

For a few uncomfortable moments, they couldn’t do anything but stare at each other. Both of them wanted nothing more than to run as far away from the other as possible, but instead, Ralph spoke, despite his pounding heart and clammy hands.

“How have you been?”

* * *

 

Jack almost flinched at the question, wondering if Ralph was this stilted with everyone, and hated himself for even thinking that. Of course it was because of the island, because of everything that happened, how could you possibly forget the kid who tried kill you? Jack felt a wave of nausea rush over him, covering his feelings for a few seconds, and receding far too quickly for his taste.

He wondered if it was too late for him to turn away and leave (without his groceries, but it was honestly worth it to just leave them behind), but he figured Ralph had suffered enough at his hands, and leaving him in a state of embarrassment might be too much.

And really, did he have anything better to do?

“Rather well, how about you?” Jack grinned at him, like they could pretend none of it happened and Ralph was just an old friend. Not the best approach, but Ralph’s wasn’t any better. 

“Good, good….” Ralph trailed off, blinking in confusion. He probably couldn’t believe this was happening. Jack knew he didn’t. He also knew that if he didn’t pick up this conversation, it’d spiral into a bigger mess than it already was, possibly including a physical fight during which someone slips on the broken eggs that still lay, forgotten, on the floor. 

“What have you been doing lately?” Jack almost screamed, the short question full of so much pep that his body almost collapsed from lack of energy. Trying to lean casually on the checkout counter, he watched Ralph’s face, looking for any hatred or anger. He felt like one of those suburban mothers with too much energy who annoyed everyone, including other suburban mothers with too much energy. 

Jack thought he might have preferred the fight.

* * *

 

Ralph couldn’t stop staring at Jack. Was he ill? Something must be wrong, because Jack wasn’t acting like how he’d expect him to. 

_ It’s almost as if people change over time,  _ Ralph thought sarcastically. Assuming that the Jack he was talking to now was the same Jack from back then was wrong. They were all kids then; their choices didn’t have any real weight. 

Ralph suddenly felt tired, and remembered his groceries, and dinner, and, glancing down, the eggs Jack had accidentally knocked off the counter. Answering Jack’s enthusiastic questions might be a bit too much for him.

“Nothing much, and I’m so sorry, but I’m in a bit of a rush, and it’d be great if you could buy those eggs real quick, and…yeah.” Ralph rushed this all out in one breath, praying silently that Jack would stop this horrific conversation so that he could head home and pretend this never happened.

“Oh, of course, I’d almost forgotten,” Jack beamed, rather looking like he hadn’t, “and, er, maybe we could catch up later? Perhaps go out for coffee or something.”

Ralph desperately wanted to say no, but he was a little scared of Jack now, who was starting to remind him of those overly cheery moms, and considered the possibility that Jack was a PTA dad now. 

“Yeah, sure, what about that new place, uh, the one near that...other store? Dave owns it, I think, his name sounds sort of like Dave, you know what I’m talking about?”

Jack nodded, smiling irritatingly all the while.

“How about next Saturday, at around eleven?” Jack asked, and pulled out a pen (god knows where he’d gotten it), scribbling his number on Ralph’s arm. Ralph nodded quickly, smiled so that he didn’t seem rude, and rushed out as fast as he could without running. 

He was five minutes away from home when he realized he forgot the eggs.

* * *

 

Jack took a deep breath. He arrived at the quaint coffee shop a few minutes past eleven, but Ralph wasn’t anywhere in sight. Could he have scared him off? If he had, it was really all for the best, what would he and Ralph even talk about? The idea was absurd, having coffee with your almost-murderer was a bad idea.

Just as he thought he was safe, Ralph walked inside, looking fearful. Jack felt guilt rush over him, and decided that the best option here would be to pretend he never showed up. Jack adjusted his beanie, making sure it covered his noticeable hair, and strolled into the restroom with such a casual air that the man walking out of the restroom didn’t see Jack and bumped into him. Jack apologized with an easy smile, in the exact way that someone affecting a casual air would.

Jack knew the window in the bathroom was small, but he clearly underestimated exactly how small. 

_ It was the right choice, the most morally correct one, _ he assured himself while he struggled to fit his hips through. 

When he finally made it, Jack looked around to make sure no one was watching, and sighed in relief. He walked away, hoping that he would get home before lunchtime.

 

_ fin (for now) _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! it would be amazing if you commented.. <3


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